


See The Light

by luninosity



Series: ...and this compromise [5]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Committed Relationship, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Fix-It, Implied Sexual Content, Kink Negotiation, Love, M/M, Missing Scene, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:38:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luninosity/pseuds/luninosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik and Charles and orders and Charles being told to stay put under morning sunlight. The fault of <a href="http://luninosity.tumblr.com/post/51084436507/luninosity-fourteenacross-dunno-if-ive-seen">this photoset and suggestion</a> over on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See The Light

**Author's Note:**

> It's meant to be sort of timeless, whenever you think it goes best, but in my head this scene mostly likely takes place somewhere between [Another Lesson To Be Learned](http://archiveofourown.org/works/670880) and [Keep In Mind I’ll Be There For You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/717944), after they've said I love you in the former but before the minor crisis of the latter.
> 
> Title and opening lines from Green Day's "See The Light". (Next up: back to the regular timeline, with an Erik POV interlude...)

  
_well, I just want to see the light_  
 _and I don't want to lose my sight_  
 _well, I just want to see the light_  
 _and I need to know what's worth the fight…_

  
“What’re we supposed to be doing?”  
  
“Learning.” Erik props a shoulder against the door, arms crossed. “Stay put.”  
  
Charles glares. Mutinously. Crosses one leg over the other, just because.  
  
Erik had walked him out to the garden, after morning tea and scones and pineapple jam; Charles, licking the last stickiness off his fingers, half-awake, had allowed himself to be pushed into a chair, and then sat there blinking bemusedly. “You’re not joining me?”  
  
“No.” Erik had smiled, faintly. Brushed sleep-messy hair out of Charles’s eyes, proprietary. “I wanted to try something. With you.”  
  
“I thought we tried rather a lot of things. Last night. And this morning. With the—”  
  
“Yes…we did…which is why we’re trying this.” Erik bent down and kissed him. Light, but firm: a reminder, though a gentle one. “You were…last night, you were…” The images flow up, shared and sweet: Charles on his knees, willingly, lips and face streaked with white; Charles holding out arms, with a silent smile, bright as telepathic sunshine, for encircling metal; Charles offering everything, not holding back, and Erik’s astonished wonder at the gift.  
  
It hadn’t been a special occasion, or a huge turning point, or any of that. He’d simply looked at Erik, and wanted. Wanted to be touched; wanted to belong to those winter-kaleidoscope eyes, to those powerful hands, and to feel safe there. So he’d taken Erik’s hand, and dropped to his knees, and kissed those elegant long fingers, and smiled, when Erik’s hand turned in response and caught and lifted his chin.  
  
Evidently Erik’s taken this as a prompt. Something more.  
  
 _I love you_ , he says, voicelessly, in answer.  
  
 _I know_. Erik grins, looking smug. Thinks emphatically about that one memory, the one Charles’s seen in his thoughts before: Erik at a bondage club—not there for purposes of sex, seeking a target—but pausing, attention snagged by a beautiful young man, graceful and collared and bound, kneeling at his Dominant’s feet; kneeling, and smiling, as his companion rested a hand on his head, casually threading fingers through his hair. The trust, and the love, in that memory, are palpable, and so is Erik’s reaction, a bittersweet wistful longing that makes Charles’s chest ache: no one’s ever given Erik that kind of trust, had that kind of faith in him, loved him enough to kneel and bare a slim neck and offer everything for him to keep safe.  
  
 _You have me_ , Charles says now, a soundless promise like a kiss, tangerine-bright and tropical and hot. _You do. You have me_.  
  
“Yes,” Erik answers aloud. “I do.” _I love you, Charles_.  
  
This time it’s his turn to say “I know.” And Erik laughs.  
  
The sunlight frisks around them, playful as a kitten; Charles sighs, and tips his head back, and doesn’t get up. “How long am I—”  
  
“Until I tell you that you can get up.” Also playful; but with steel underneath. Charles sighs again.  
  
He’s come to terms with what he wants, with _wanting_ to be submissive, these days and nights, in their bedroom—he loves that, in fact, the feeling of Erik’s lean muscles atop him, pinning him down with fiercely joyous weight. Loves Erik claiming him and wanting him and marking him, leaving him cherished and breathless and vulnerable and dizzy with pleasure/pain and feeling intensely loved.  
  
But this is something different.  
  
“This is ridiculous,” he says. Because, really, it is. Erik’s put him here in this chair and told him to stay and there’s nothing keeping him here except that order, and he’s drunk rather a lot of tea and eventually he’s going to need to get up for that reason, and this isn’t even remotely about sex, not with Erik way over there—  
  
Except it is about sex. With Erik over there, and looking at him that way. And thinking about him _that_ way.  
  
As if Erik’s never seen anything so lovely. As if this, right here, only watching Charles in the sun, is the most perfect moment of Erik’s life. Etched in gold.  
  
The morning sunlight’s warm on the naked skin of his arms, on his upturned face. There’s a hint of breeze; it prickles all the tiny hairs along his arm into hyperawareness. When he shifts his leg, he can feel the rasp of clothing over his skin, and suddenly that’s almost too much, as Erik's gaze traces the lines of his body, as the arousal follows, imminent and omnipresent, kindling those sparks deep inside all over again.  
  
Erik smiles. “Stand up, then. If you’re going to argue.”  
  
“I could. I…happen not to want to. For now.”  
  
And Erik, still gazing at him, says, one more time, “I know.”


End file.
